


Lessons in Etiquette

by TheFourtiethHorseman



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Bat Family, Batcave, Corporal Punishment, Gen, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Typical Alfred Behavior, kind of, not quite, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-05-31 23:30:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15130103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFourtiethHorseman/pseuds/TheFourtiethHorseman
Summary: "Nothing like an Alfred lecture to make you feel exactly five inches tall.  Jason said nothing, knowing that Alfred wouldn’t be appeased by apologies or persuaded by arguments. He’d just have to wait it out until Alfred had lectured enough to reach forgiveness.Or, so Jason had thought."





	1. Chapter 1

All things considered, this wasn’t Jason’s fault. If anything it was Dick’s fault for not controlling his menace, or Tim’s fault for convincing him to stop by the manor for a medical check in the first place. It could have also been Tim’s fault for riling the bat brat up to begin with, for playing into his games. Then again, it was also the kid’s fault for playing these games at all.

 

And that was just it. Damian was a child, with faulty judgment and a bad attitude and no idea what he’d even been talking about. He shouldn’t have said what he said, he shouldn’t have even dared to go there.  It wasn’t his business, he should have just stayed back and let the grown ups handle it.

 

“Father did mention you were reckless,” he’d said, after over half an hour of he and Tim picking at each other while Jason bit down on a rag and let Dick stitch up the knife would he’d gotten in the meat of his upper back. 

 

Jason hadn’t wanted to fight alongside the bats in the first place.He would these days, because he’d promised Alfred that he’d _try_ even if Bruce was a sack of shit and Dick was infuriating and Damien was the devil incarnate.

 

Tim and Cass he didn’t mind, except when Tim got like this- sleep deprived and snappy and shouting back and forth with the eleven year old, making Jason’s probably-concussed head pound like he was being cracked open.

 

Jason wasn’t new to pain. After Al Ghul, there probably wasn’t anything he couldn’t take. Didn’t mean he liked it. Didn’t mean that he had any more patience for arguing children, or that losing control, even in this kind of minute amount, didn’t make his chest grow tight with panic.

 

Okay, so maybe Jason had some issues, but whatever.Point was, he wasn’t a damn masochist, and right now the little shits were more punishment than he could bare.

 

And then Damian had said that.Jason hadn’t bothered suppressing a wince when Dick tugged a little too hard on the thread as he finished it up, and Damian just couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut.

 

“Father did mention you were reckless, but I didn’t expect such stupid mistakes,” he said, and Dick tensed, obviously realizing that Damian was stomping all over several subjects that were just not talked about. 

 

“Damian...” Dick warned, voice hesitant, but Jason was already whirling on him.

 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

 

Damian had the audacity to smirk, and Jason felt his blood boil. “If you’d listened to Dick, none of this would have happened-“

 

Ha, listening to Dick of all people. Just another shitty topic that Damian was trudging up.

 

“-It would have been an easier clean up too. But what should I have expected?You’re basically the poster child for amateur mistakes and disobedience.”

 

Before Damian was finished speaking, Jason was out of his chair and across the room without even realizing he’d stood up. Dick shouted a warning, “Jason, no!” But he wasn’t fast enough to grab him before Jason’s palm cracked across Damian’s cheek, whipping his head to the side and nearly knocking him off his feet.

 

He stumbled, but he didn’t fall, and Damian snarled at him when he raised his head. 

 

Dick grabbed Jason’s arm to haul him back, and that was when the brat pounced, somehow taking out all of their legs and knocking the both of them to the ground. He got in one glancing punch to Jason’s jaw before Jason grabbed both the kid’s arms, rolled them, and pinned him to the ground.

 

The boy was squirrely, but Jason had eighty pounds of muscle and two feet of height on him. It was nothing to pick the kid up, kicking and screaming, and slam him back against the wall with one hand fisted in his shirt and one hand holding him up by the upper arm.

 

He didn’t pay attention to the words that flooded out of his mouth, letting his mouth fly the way he'd never done before his death.  He was so used to being cornered and scared and having to think his way out of shit.  He didn't feel cornered anymore, though. He felt pissed as hell.Pissed, and also kind of gutted, like something was missing from the center of his chest.

 

Maybe his chest was hollow from the words that flew out of his mouth a mile a minute, which only succeeded in making Damian glare like he thought it was all so fucking amusing. “Take it back, you son of a bitch, you ever talk to me like that again I’ll shove that sword of yours so far up your ass you’ll have a pointed tongue. You little piece of shit. Mother fucker. I don’t know who you think you are but you have no idea what you’re talking about, so keep your fucking mouth shut, or I swear to God-“

 

“Master Jason!” Once, when Jason was fourteen, Alfred had caught him lighting a bottle rocket at some hoity toity Wayne Enterprises social event.Some kind of childish revenge on Bruce for something or other, or maybe just adolescent boredom.

 

Suddenly, Jason was fourteen years old again and getting dragged off to bed at seven pm by a firm grip on the ear.

 

He dropped the kid, and Dick let go of where he’d been yanking at Jason, trying to haul him off.He immediately put himself between Jason and Damian, though from the fiery murder in the boy’s eyes, Jason couldn’t tell who exactly Dick was protecting.

 

Jason wasn’t a threat, though. Not when he was frozen where he stood.

 

“Alfred, I-“

 

“Not a word,” Alfred said, holding up a hand and dragging a chair away from the table they’d all been hanging around.  Jason's words dried up on his tongue.

 

“Pennyworth, have this man removed-“

 

“That is enough, Master Damian,” Alfred said, voice still deadly calm.Dick placed a hand over Damian’s mouth, if the muffled growl was anything to go by.

 

Tim, who had elected to sit back and watch the show instead of getting up to help, now sat stock still in his chair, knees drawn up to his chest and all traces of previous exhaustion gone.  His eyes were wide and owlish.

 

“Come here,” Alfred said, and suddenly Jason was twelve and he’d tried to sneak in from school with a black eye.Alfred had pointed to the spot directly in front of him, and he’d let Jason swear and spit and cry as he expressed that he hated his stupid school full of stupid rich assholes and that he wasn’t going back, Bruce couldn’t make him.

 

Alfred had cleaned him up and sat him down and let him watch TV instead of doing his homework, and when Bruce tried to lay into him about the call he’d gotten from the principal, Alfred had simply redirected his attention and explained that it was all handled and dealt with.

 

Jason went to school the next day, but not because Bruce made him.When it came down to it, Bruce couldn’t _make_ him do anything, but all Alfred ever had to do was ask.

 

“Damian, go up to bed,” Alfred spoke, not tearing his eyes away from Jason, who had moved with numb legs to stand exactly where Alfred had indicated.

 

“I will not, I-“

 

“Now, young sir,” and the snap in his voice was enough to make Damian stomp across the cave and up the stairs, grumbling the whole way.Alfred turned to watch him go, waiting for the sound of a door slamming above them, before he redirected his attention to Jason.

 

“Listen, Alfie, if you’d heard what the kid said-“

 

“I heard every word,” Alfred interrupted, and the raise of his eyebrow made Jason clamp his mouth shut.“And I will not hear any excuses.He is a child. You know better than to engage him in such petty arguments-“

 

In his periphery, Jason noticed Tim flinch, the kind of reaction that should have been trained out of him. The kind of reaction that _had_  been trained out of him.  Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the security of being home and in the cave and not on full display to the public.  Or maybe there was just something about Alfred that convinced them into letting their guards down enough to be human.

 

“-and you certainly know better than to strike out against him.Despite what he may believe, he is capable of being harmed, and I will not see you doing damage to anyone in this family because you fail to act your age.”

 

Ouch. Fuck. Nothing like an Alfred lecture to make you feel exactly five inches tall.Jason said nothing, knowing that Alfred wouldn’t be appeased by apologies or persuaded by arguments. He’d just have to wait it out until Alfred had lectured enough to reach forgiveness.

 

Or, so Jason had thought.

 

“When you fought with Master Richard that last time, as a boy, what did I say would happen if you ever struck out against a member of this family again?” Alfred asked, and Jason didn’t even have to think before he knew the answer.That memory had burned itself in through pure embarrassment of the threat alone.

 

It had been the sheer childishness of the threat, since Jason had been holding his own in the depths of Crime Alley since he’d dropped out of the third grade, and even before.The fact that Alfred- calm, caring, wonderful Alfred- would threaten him like that had been enough to make Jason keep his head down and his tail between his legs for three whole days.

 

Even now, Jason found himself flushing red, feeling exactly the same as he’d felt at fifteen with every ounce of rebellion disappearing from him.

 

“You can’t be serious,” Jason choked out, because he was more stubborn now, somehow, than he had been then.But Alfred simply had to purse his lips to make Jason crumble.

 

“I am awaiting your answer,” Alfred said, and Jason was tempted to stomp his foot and whine that this was ridiculous. It wasn’t fair.  

 

“You- oh come on, I- fine.God damn it, fine! You said you’d put me over your knee, but the little punk had that coming to him. It’ll do him some good to learn to stop running his mouth, and I- Alfred, seriously, you can’t expect me to- that was years ago!”

 

“And it seems you are acting just as immature as you were when I warned you the first time,” Alfred replied simply, taking a step back and sitting down gracefully in the chair he’d pulled out.

 

“Come here, Master Jason.”

 

If it was anyone else, Jason would tell them to go to Hell. Probably punch them in the teeth, too. As it was, all Jason could do was open and close his mouth uselessly as he tried to come up with an excuse.

 

“This is non-negotiable.”

 

“Alfred....” Dick’s voice startled Jason. He’d almost forgotten that he was even there, and oh great, he was the last person Jason needed involved in this conversation. “I don’t think....”

 

“Save if, Master Richard,” Alfred said, and Jason clenched his fists at his side. The last thing Jason wanted was Dick thinking he had to defend Jason from a punishment.Dick didn’t need to protect Jason from anything, but he especially had no right to think that Jason couldn’t take whatever Alfred was going to dish.

 

And just like that, Jason found himself moving. Over to Alfred’s side and folding himself over the older’s gentleman’s lap until he was balancing on his hands and toes, torn stitches burning in his shoulder and face aflame with humiliation.

 

He wasn’t twelve or fourteen or fifteen.In that moment, he was twenty-one years old and being bent over his grandfather’s knee for a spanking. Somehow, he felt younger in that moment than all of those past times.

 

Alfred had never spanked him before (though Jason had heard some stories that suggested that Dick got into far more trouble at the manor than Jason had ever accomplished), and he had no idea what this was going to be like.They all knew better than to underestimate their loyal butler, so Jason wouldn’t be surprised if this child’s punishment was nothing to be scoffed at.

 

Still, it was just that- a child’s punishment.He was embarrassed and a little bit nervous, but he pledged to himself that regardless of any circumstances, he was going to take it like a man. He was not going to make a sound. He was going to hold it together and-

 

“Count,” Alfred said, as his hand fell in what could barely be classified as more than a pat against the seat of Jason’s pants.

 

Jason stared, dumbfounded, at the floor beneath his hands.He’d taken more beatings than he could count. He knew how this went.  They were supposed to hurt.

 

“I, um-“ but he’d be an idiot to question it. “One, sir.”

 

He figured Alfred would like the sir, and it only seemed proper given his position.

 

The next swat that fell- if it could even be called that- was a bit heavier, but still nothing more than a painless thwap against the thick material of his pants.

 

He shifted his weight from hand to hand, confused. His shoulder burned. “Two sir.”

 

Alfred patted him again. After the first five, he picked up the strength enough that there was at least a touch of sting behind the smack of his hand against Jason’s ass, but it was still nearly nothing. He glanced over his shoulder at Alfred, but the old man wasn’t giving away his secrets.He glanced up at the room at large and found Dick staring, mouth hanging open, and Tim hiding a smirk behind his raised cell phone.

 

The little fucker was recording this.Or, Jason figured when Tim lowered his phone with an even more pleased smirk, he’d at least taken a picture.

 

Jason was going to track him down later and give him a taste of this, beat the kid’s ass until he promised to get rid of the entire blackmail file Jason knew Tim kept on him.

 

Jason tore his eyes away from them, scowling from humiliation, and continued to count dutifully.All the way through twenty, his voice never wavered, and his fears of not retaining his dignity vanished.What the fuck was Alfred doing?

 

“Twenty, sir,” he said, and Alfred left his hand where he’d dropped the last smack. 

 

“Let that be a lesson to you,” he said, and he smacked Jason one final time.This last one, twenty-one, was the first real strike of the whole ordeal, and it smarted even after Alfred placed his hand on the small of his back instead.Still, Jason kept still and kept his mouth shut, barely feeling chastised at all.

 

“I will warm your bottom again if you earn it.Childish behavior reaps childish consequences.” 

 

And that was when Jason got it.For one, he hadn’t heard the word ‘bottom’ since he was five fucking years old. And Alfred’s last statement gave everything away.

 

Jason felt remorseful from pure humiliation alone, and that is what Alfred had been going for. The old man had been making a point.

 

When he lifted his hand off of him, Jason clambered clumsily back to his feet.Alfred stood as well, helping him with a hand on his arm and looking him over with a concerned expression on his face.

 

“What if I told you I wasn’t embarrassed?” Jason asked, just because he liked to test his luck and had to do something to put a lighter air in the room.

 

“I’d say that your blush is giving you away,” Alfred responded, lifting one hand and tapping the tip of Jason’s nose with his fingertip.Jason scoffed and stepped back and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand.Tim snickered.

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Alfie.”

 

“Let me take a look at that shoulder, then. You’ve torn your stitches.” Alfred rounded the room and settled down in front of the first aid kit, slipping immediately into his role as Agent A as if Jason had not just experienced the ninth most embarrassing moment of his life.

 

Not that he hadn’t deserved it, but still.

 

“I’m gonna go check on Damian,” Dick said, throwing Jason an amused glance that suggested he wouldn’t be hearing the end of this. Great.

 

Tim did a poor job of covering a laugh with a cough, and Alfred spoke again. “There is no caffeine in the house,” he said, addressing Tim. “And it will remain that way until you have gotten two decent nights of sleep.You’ll make yourself ill going on the way you do.”

 

“What!?” Tim yelped, losing all humor very quickly. “That’s not fair!”

 

Jason, who was standing behind Alfred just out of sight, made eye contact with Tim and smacked the back of his hand into his palm in a gesture that Tim clearly understood, given the pink that rose up in the tips of his ears.

 

He scowled darkly at Jason and sunk down a bit further in front of his computer. “Yes, Alfred,” he muttered, and Alfred grinned.

 

“Thank you for your cooperation. Now Master Jason, if you please.”Jason sighed and settled himself down in the chair Alfred indicated, letting him get right to putting the gash in his back together again.Even with the local anesthetic, the stitches hurt more than the spanking had, but Jason decided it was best not to mention it


	2. Double D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys reminisce about not-so-distant memories.

When a rather disgruntled Damian made his way into the common room and threw himself onto the couch with a huff, Dick knew better than to question it.  There was an art to dealing with his brothers, a certain skill set he'd adapted over the years of figuring out how to be a family together.  When Cassie had a problem, your only hope was to figure it out for yourself and present your questions multiple choice style.  That, or go straight for a hug, if the problem was anything but anger.  With Jason and Tim it was a much more precarious hunt.  Jason had been known to hold grudges and harbor secrets like it was an Olympic sport, and Tim's bullheadedness kept him tight lipped.  He'd sooner work himself to death than ask for help, so it was best to nip that shit in the bud early where those two were concerned. 

 

Damian was a different story.  Dick had learned from a lot (a  _lot_ ) of trial an error.  Confronting Damian outright just made him think that you were doubting him, that needed help was some kind of weakness he ought to be above.  Asking was the fastest way to shut him up for good, so as much as Dick's curiosity killed him, while Damian huffed and grumbled to himself on the couch, Dick kept his nose in his phone and his questions to himself. 

 

The others, unfortunately, weren't quite so clever.  

 

"What's wrong with you, brat bat?" Jason goaded, and Dick had to consciously stop himself from dropping his head into his hands. Damian growled, a noise more akin to a small dog than a small boy.  He kicked out at Jason, who had the misfortune of sitting next to him, and who also seemed unbothered entirely by the pathetic attack. 

 

"Nothing," Damian grumbled. 

 

"Alfred finally cook up that heffer of yours for dinner?"

 

In the blink of an eye, the TV remote was flying across the couch, whipped suddenly towards Jason's head.  If Jason was anything  _but_ a past Robin he wouldn't have caught it, but good reflexes had been trained into him.  He raised his hand just in time, plastic smacking into his palm.  He immediately changed the channel to Ancient Aliens.  Tim sighed audibly and slouched on the couch, sliding his laptop to rest on his chest instead of his lap. 

 

"Pennyworth wouldn't  _dare_ ," Damian practically spat, and Dick couldn't quite help the wince.  Jason clucked his tongue. 

 

"Pennyworth better not hear you talk like that."

 

Something about that statement set Damian on edge, had him sitting upright and snarling.  Jason eyed him curiously, mischief glinting in his eye.  Dick could just tell this was leading to trouble.  For him, somehow, though he wasn't sure why.  These things always lead to trouble for him. Perks of being the eldest, he supposed. 

 

"One of these days," Jason warned, the faux-lecture tone of his voice earning another hearty sigh from Tim, "Alfred's going to take you down a peg.  Then you'll get what's comin' to ya." 

 

Damian scoffed.  Alfred the cat padded past the couch quietly, and he reached down and scooped him up into his lap, grumpy expression never leaving his phase.  Dick's fingers itched for a camera.  It was rare that Damian looked so young and innocent, and to catch him and Jason looking so casual and domestic in one photo would be a dream come true.  He was so preoccupied with the thought that he didn't register Damian speaking at first, not until a certain word caught his attention. 

 

"He just threatened to  _spank_ me.  Who does he think he is?" Damian asked incredulously, and Dick's mouth fell open.  Tim lowered his laptop lid and peeked up over it.  Dick looked up at Jason, watched his cheeks flush red, and he couldn't help himself.  He burst out laughing. 

 

Damian dropped the wriggling cat on the floor and scowled.  " _What_ is so funny, Grayson?" he demanded.  Dick just dropped his head back and laughed.  He noticed Tim cover his mouth with his hands, heard him snicker quietly.  Jason continued to level the room with a glare.  If looks could kill, Jason would have stabbed him.  Regardless, he was probably at risk anyways. 

 

Tim lobbed a pillow in Jason's direction and said, "Better watch out, Damian.  Jason got it just the other day." 

 

Jason caught it and chucked it back with a hiss.  "Shut  _up_!" 

 

"Oh come on, you're not the only one-"

 

"And when did you last get your ass beat, replacement?" 

 

Tim sputtered at that one, blushing the same way Jason had earlier.  "I- well- I haven't, but- but Dick has!  Lots of times!" 

 

Dick's mouth fell open for the second time this conversation.  "Not lots of times!  Once!" 

 

"Bull shit."  Dick grabbed the pillow and tossed it back at Jason. 

 

"Watch your language." 

 

"Gee thanks, Alfred junior." 

  
Dick raised a hand and nonchalantly flipped off his younger brother.  Damian spun around, clambering up onto his knees and staring at Dick with a sincere expression. 

 

"Grayson.  Are you telling me that you  _allowed_ Pennyworth to do this to you?"  Between the smug expression Tim was throwing his way and the way Jason was stifling laughter into his throw pillow, Dick could feel his face burning in humiliation.  He licked his lips and tried not to laugh at Damian's indignation. 

 

"I was a kid, Dami.  There wasn't much  _letting_ him do anything.  I messed up, and he helped me set it straight."  Explaining it maturely and putting words in order was one of the hardest things Dick had had to do that week.  The other two hellions weren't helping.  

 

Tim scoffed and set his laptop aside, stretching his back over the arm of the couch.  "I doubt it was only one time," he said.  Dick glared at him. 

 

"Oh no, it was only once from Alfred.  He got smacked by Bruce a number of times," Jason interrupted, and Dick spun on him, mouth agape. 

 

"Wha-"

 

"There was that time you tried to go out without Batman.  Tried to walk right out the front door, like an idiot."  Jason looked awfully proud of himself.  Dick found himself talking around marbles. 

 

"I- wha- how do you know that!?  You weren't even  _here_ for that!" 

 

Jason shrugged one shoulder, giving nothing away, and Dick narrowed his eyes.  Tim sat up and waved a hand to cut them off.  "Yeah, yeah," he said.  "Dick was nothing but trouble, and Bruce still isn't winning father of the year.  Get on with it.  Tell us the story." 

 

"What story?"

 

"The story of the time you got spanked by Alfred." 

 

"Not a chance.  Let's tell Jason's story.  It's much funnier."

 

"Most of us were  _there_ for Jason's story," Tim complained.  "Come on, don't be a spoilsport." 

 

"Yeah, Dickhead.  It's only fair."  Jason lobbed his pillow again, and Dick just stared blankly at the wall as it smacked him in the face and bounced to the floor.  Alfred the cat saw his opportunity and pounced, taking down the throw pillow like a lion taking on a zebra. He couldn't believe this was happening to him.  He knew this would be nothing but trouble for him. 

 

"Fine," he groaned, rubbing his hands over his face.  "Fine, alright, I, um.  I mouthed off to Bruce, said something really nasty.  B wouldn't do anything about it, and when Alfred told me to apologize, I said he couldn't make me.  Well... he made me, alright."

 

Jason nodded knowingly, smile playing at his lips.  "Alfred can be quite convincing when he wants to be."

 

Damian just stared at the carpet and shook his head.  "I can't believe he  _beat_ you...."

 

"Hey there," Jason interrupted before Dick got the chance to.  "It's not like that.  We didn't get anything we didn't deserve."

 

"But he-" 

 

Jason sat up, putting on the first serious expression of the whole conversation.  He stared straight at Damian, the kind of open communication Dick wasn't sure he'd ever seen between the two of them.  "Trust me," he said solemnly.  "It's not like that.  I would know.  I'm sure you do too." 

 

Dick wondered what that was about, what details Jason knew that Dick didn't, and how he'd gotten them.  He glanced between the two, watched Damian purse his lips and nod, coming to an understanding.  

 

"Fine," he said.  "But next you are going to tell me you believe in this alien nonsense."  Damian emphasized the word 'nonsense' and gestured to the TV, where someone who had what was probably a fake PhD was trying to claim that aliens had built the pyramids.  Heck, maybe they had. 

 

"You've met Superman," Tim said, suddenly looking very tired with this new conversation.  "And you're saying you don't believe in aliens?" 

 

"I do not believe that Superman built the pyramids, no."

 

"Let's call him and ask, then!  Dick, give me your phone."  Jason reached out and made a mad grab for it, and Dick darted bcak, holding the thing above his head.  

 

"You're not bothering Uncle Clark just for that!" He welcomed the distraction, though.  No room to be embarrassed when Jason was climbing on top of him and trying to wrestle his cell phone out of his hand, and then Tim was grabbing for his feet, and Damian did nothing but sit there and watch Dick get attacked.  They were always gaining up on him.  Dick should be accustomed to this by now.  Heck, maybe things would stay stable long enough that he'd get the chance to.  

 

Maybe they were a pain in the ass, but he'd rather have share that pain with them than go without.

 


End file.
